Dear Bruce,
by NIGHTWING EpIcNeSs
Summary: "I would count for hours and hours, and never would I stop. Never would I stop counting the deaths created in my hands. In my bloody hands, stained with the lives of innocent people."
1. Dear Bruce,

Dear Bruce,

I know I'm not the son you wanted. I know I didn't turn into someone amazing like you, and I'm sorry. I'm a screw up. I have cost us the mission more times than not, and don't you dare say it wasn't your fault.

Remember the time when I was eleven, and I ran in against your orders into a warehouse full of 40% of Gotham's villains? Then the kidnapped me, and laughing gas was spread throughout Gotham. Hundreds of people died from laughing.

I'm sorry.

Remember when I was nine and you took me to see the Hunger Games premiere? And I almost burned down the theater? Yeah, we got a laugh out of that.

I'm sorry.

Remember when you began dating Selina? I thought she was going to take you away from me, and so I sabotaged every date you guys had for months.

I'm sorry.

Please move on. I'm not worth it. I try to be a good person and I can't. If I couldn't save my own family, how could I save the entire world? I'm useless, and worthless, and I'm a Gypsy-trash wannabe-hero. Please forgive me.

I'm sorry for everything I've ever done. Your life would be so much better if I had never been adopted. Bruce, I'm so so so sorry. I want you to grab my Flying Graysons poster, and I want you to take it to my parents grave. I want you to set on the grave, and tell them I'm sorry. Then I want you to burn my clothes, burn my bed sheets, burn my technology and give my cars to the poor. I want you to erase my bank account and completely erase me from existence. Then I want you to forget. Forget every fight we had, every punch I threw. Forget it please.

Do you remember when I was eighteen, and I put you in the hospital? I'm sorry for that too. Then after you were administered to the hospital, I ran away to Bludhaven. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for never saying sorry. I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you. I'm sorry for failing at being a hero.

I'm no hero. I'm no hero. I'm no hero.

Every night while I stayed in Bludhaven, I would lie awake in my bed, and stare at the ceiling. I would count the number of deaths I've caused, and I never actually got to the number. I would count for hours, and never would I stop. Never would I stop counting the deaths created in my hands. In my bloody hands, stained with the lives of innocent people.

I'm a failure. A failure. A failure.

Each time I beat someone in a sparring match, I knew I was becoming uncontrollable. I knew I was only becoming stronger, I was only fueling myself. But I was never strong. I was weak. I allowed civilians to die, before my eyes. I allowed teammates to take the fall for me, because I was scared. I was a wimp, a traitor. The world almost was destroyed, on my watch. I was so sure that I was going to save the world, but all that happened was the almost-deaths of two heroes, and the death of my closest pal. Everyone had to step in and help cover up my tracks, and mask my mistakes, all for my reputation.

Please, forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me.

Everyone hates me, and you should to. I lied to the team about the death of one of their own. I almost killed them all. I walked into battle feeling prepared, but in reality, I was a sitting duck. Even my _best friend _can't stand to look at me. She sees me, and her green eyes which shine brighter than emeralds, will turn a dull lifeless color, and she crinkles her nose in disgust. She hasn't asked to do any projects with me in school for months. My grades dropped. And I failed calculus. And chemistry. And quantum physics. And English. And all my other classes. I was kicked out of Gotham University.

I'm worthless. I'm worthless. I'm worthless.

It's been exactly three hundred and sixty five days since we defeated the reach. It has been eleven months since I was kicked out of GU. It has been ten months since Barbara has talked to me. It was been nine months since I ran away. It has been eight months since Nightwing has made any contact with anyone. It has been seven months since I started cutting myself. It has been six months since I became suicidal. It has been five months since I became anorexic. It has been four months since my first suicide attempt. It has been three months since I became legally insane. It has been two months since I last talked. It has been one month since I have gone outside. It has been two weeks since I was last bullied by the team. It has been one week since I began only drinking water, and stopped eating. It has been three days since I have stopped drinking at all. It has been one hour since I began this letter.

I'm a nobody. A nobody. A nobody.

Don't tell the team I'm gone. They won't notice. After they found me two weeks ago, and practically beat me up, I doubt they care. They want me gone. Everyone does. I tell myself it's okay, but I think I'm falling, Bruce. I'm breaking. I have slowly been cracking at the surface, and no one saw. No one noticed. No one even asked me if I was okay. On my birthday, I sat alone, on my bed, waiting for a call, or a visitor. I sat alone in the mountain waiting. Everyone had gone to the movies. On the anniversary of my parents' death, I waited to be comforted, and no one came.

No one cared. No one cared. No one cared.

Wally's dead. I killed him. I told him to run with Bart and Barry. It's all my fault. He was my best friend, and he trusted me as if I were the only person on were best bros. And he's dead. I killed him. His death was my fault. I killed him! On my birthday…. I'm a murderer.

It's all my fault. All my fault. All my fault.

Tell Timmy I'm sorry I never made him team leader.

Tell Jason I'm sorry for sending him on the mission with the Joker.

Tell Dami that I'm sorry for never taking him on patrol.

Tell Arty that I'm sorry for Wally's death.

Tell Kaldur that I'm sorry I made him a spy.

Tell the team I'm sorry for every single lie I ever said.

Tell Babs I'm sorry for falling in love with her.

I'm so sorry, Bruce. I know you could never forgive me, so please, forget me. I'm no hero. I'm a failure. It's all my fault. I'm so alone. No one cares. And I deserve every last bit of it.

Tonight, I am going to fall asleep and never wake up. I can finally see Wally, and Jason, and Mom and Dad and everyone else I killed. I can finally say sorry to everyone. I can finally say sorry and pay for everything. If it makes you feel any better, I always thought of you as my dad. I never said it, but I did. So, in that case, I'm sorry dad.

I'm sorry dad. I'm sorry for ever being born.

Forget me,

Richard John Grayson.

Fin.

… … … … … … … … … … …

I know it sucks. :(


	2. And I try to forget

**Hey guys! It's muah, Babs! Okay, this chapter focuses on Barbara's reaction. CHAPPIE TWO! This was supposed to be a one-shot, but ****Dead Hero** **asked me to do a second chapter, and how could I resist? Thanks for the suggestion and yeah, here it is!**

_This is the letter and/or emphasis_

**This is thoughts **

_This will state a flashback._

**Chapter 2: And I try to forget **

Bruce's eyes read over the paper once again, for the sixteenth time that night.

_I'm sorry dad. I'm sorry for ever being born._

_Forget me,_

_Richard John Grayson_

Tears began to well up in his eyes, and he didn't stop them. He wasn't Batman right now; and even if her was, he wouldn't stop the tears then. Nightwing, _his Nightwing_ was gone. His crystallized blue eyes were no longer there, but in the place were a pair of to dull, lifeless, broken, gray orbs. He would have cried no matter what if DIck was killed. But this was different. He was killed. He committed suicide, and it was all Bruce's fault. Using every ounce of strength he had, he pushed back the tears. He would not cry. He would not break. He would stay strong- for Dick. For his failure.

_...and don't you dare say it wasn't your fault._

It was! It was! It was all Bruce's fault, it was all his fault. **What did you actually do to cause his death? **Nothing. Absolutely nothing. But Bruce had promised to protect him! **You were in space during this event. You had no control over what he did. **But if he had stayed home…**and cause the deaths of millions? Don't blame yourself, do it for Dick. **For Dick… right. Okay, It was going to be okay. Maybe if he didn't tell the team, they would just forget about him, and maybe it would all quietly fade away.

No. They deserved to know. Whether or not they hated Nightwing, he was still a part of the team.

_It was been nine months since I ran away. It has been eight months since Nightwing has made any contact with anyone._

_Don't tell the team I'm gone. They won't notice._

_They want me gone. _

Those bastards, they did this. They did this to his son. It was their fault. BUt they… They were just defending themselves. They were scared, they felt betrayed. Dick had lied to them, Dick had started to become like Bruce. He was becoming Batman. So in a way, it was all his fault.

Tears filled his eyes once again, and he tried to blink them away. He tried to stop them, but the happiness inside his body continued to leave, and tears fell down his cheeks, and left hot trails behind. Emptiness was engulfing him, and Bruce found it hard to breath, hard to stand, hard to think. He tried to think of something else, Alfred, Tim, Barbara, Joker, Ivy, Selina, anyone, anything. But no matter how hard he tried- all he could think of was Dick.

Dick Grayson.

The boy he failed to save.

The boy he failed to heal.

Dick Grayson…

Bruce Wayne's greatest failure.

Barbara was pissed. How could he do that, how could he just lie to her like that? She thought… she thought that they were best friends. She had secretly loved him for freaking crying out loud! He- he said he loved her. He said he would never hurt he, that he would protect he.

But that bastard had lied.

And she had made sure he knew she was furious. She punched him, yelled at him. She cried at him what he did to her. She had ignored him, made him an outcast. She made sure that Dick Grayson knew he was hated. And it was true. She hated every cell in her body she hated him. She told herself every day. Every day since he ran away. Every single day. And now here she was, one year since he left, and it was December first. It was his twentieth birthday. It was the day he had planned to move out. She and him had planned to travel, and move to their secret place together. They had planned to spend the rest of their lives together. They were inseparable. She loved him. She had trusted him. He said they were going to be together forever. She scowled at the memory.

_Flashback__:_

"_Hey Dick!" fifteen year old Richard Grayson looked up from his notebook at the source of the sound. In his hand was a graphite pencil, used to create thick lines. On the table was a thinner pencil, used for shading. The notebook was full of sketches, some half way done, and others completely finished. On the page was a courtyard, with sun flowers and ruins of buildings lining the edges. Weeds were climbing up the walls of the stone, and moss was growing through the dusty cracks of brick on the ground. In the center was a fountain, where no water was coming out. On one of the ruins, which looked like a bench, sat fifteen year old Barbara Gordon, and beside her was a half finished Dick Grayson. It was truly beautiful, and only Barbara knew of his amazing talent. He gave her most of his drawings, and she knew how special she felt when he did._

"_Yeah Babs?" He asked, the red headed girl, who stood in his doorway. Her was slightly curled, and she was wearing her black nerd glasses instead of contacts. She had on a mint green long sleeved shirt, and a neon yellow hoodie with the sleeves cut off. She had on orange skinny jeans, and black high tops. She looked stunning, but Dick kept the thought to himself. _

"_Come check this out!" She waved her hand in his direction, beckoning him to follow her, and he did. She ran down the stairs of the manor, leaving a small click on the floorboards as she ran. Dick chased after her, following her into the woods behind the manor. IN front of him was a giggling Barbara, yelling our "run faster pixie boots!" and other animated sentences. Finally, they reached a pond around fifteen minutes later. Large towering trees scattered around them, hiding them from above. Blackberry bushes and apple trees surrounded the area hiding them from the ground as well. The pond's water was a beautiful crystal color, and lily pads and reeds resided inside the water._

_He guessed the pond was three feet deep, and he could see golden and bronze fish swimming inside. Lisianthus, Gloriosa, and Phalaenopsis flowers lined all around him, and in the very center of the pond, on a patch of land about as big as his head, was a single Saffron Crocus flower, which was one of the most beautiful and expensive flowers in the world. Dick scowled as he forgot his notebook inside. The place was beautiful. He stood there gaping at the beauty, and soon walked over to a small wooden bench, where his friend was sitting. _

"_I was walking to the manor, when some crow took my hat, and so I decided to follow it. The woods were like a cemetery! Not a single tree was alive! Then, I saw this big giant tree, so I ran up to it, and I saw these other trees and they had these amazing green leaves and everything! It's the middle of fall, though! So I was walking around and then I fell down this hill and I hurt my arm," the red head pointed to a scratch on her fore arm, "and I felt dizzy, so I saw this bench and I decided to sit down, so I did. But then I saw this place, and I KNEW you would love it! What do you think Dick?" Barbara stared at the raven haired boy, waiting for an answer. _

"_I- I love it. It's the most beautiful place I've ever been. And it's all ours," he said, smiling at the end of his answer._

"_Do you think Bruce of Alfred knows about this place?" She asked. He raised an eyebrow, and look around, spotting a plaque next to the flower in the center of the pond. She followed his gaze, and copied his action. Rolling up his pants, he slid off his black hoodie, and took off his shoes. Barbara began to take of her glasses, and set her yellow jacket on the bench. She too, took off her shoes. Dick stepped into the pond first, and a startled _

_cry erupted from him as the cold water shocked his nerves. He waded to the plaque, and Barbara stayed behind by a few feet. When the water reached his hips, he stood on his tip toes and read the plaque. _

"_To Martha Wayne._

_Our special place. Our special hideout. I bid you happiness as we spend the rest of our lives together, and as we enter this new chapter, we will still have memories of the past. Our special secret._

_-Thomas Wayne" He shook his head in response to Barbara's earlier question. "No. I don't think anyone knows about this but us." Barbara smiled, and said,_

"_So it's all ours. It's our special place now. A memory, so you won't forget me."_

"_Babs, I could never forget you. You're my best friend! And Bruce says when I'm twenty, I can move out! So, what if we built a little house out here? It's at least two miles away from the manor, and it's all ours! we could live out here! Together.' He smiled fondly at her._

"_How can I trust you aren't lying to me?" She asked, and smirked._

"_I promise you. And I never break a promise." She smiled. _

"_You got five years Grayson. Five years to make that happen."_

"_Gordon, just you wait."_

_End Flashback._

She hated this. She hated it. It had been five years. It was his twentieth birthday, and he promised. He promised.

"You promised" She whispered. It was so quiet, it was just a breath, but she said it. And all of her hatred was put into that single phrase into that single sentence. And no matter how many times she said it, she couldn't bring herself to believe it. She couldn't stop herself from missing him. She walked over to her desk, where a letter from Dick lay. She had yelled when Alfred gave it to her one week ago, and threw it on the desk refusing to read it.

Her fingers traced the envelope, and stared at it. Then, she picked it up. She didn't wait for hesitation to kick in as she ripped it open, eager to read it. Maybe… maybe if she read it she might be able to hate him. Maybe the hatred for the traitor might finally kicked. She read the handwritten letter aloud, and she sat down on her bed, and brought her knees to her chest.

"Dear Barbara,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so so so so sorry. I know you hate me, and I hate myself to.

I lied, I manipulated you, and I caused you pain. Please move on. Please forgive me. I understand if you can't. But please, just please, move on.

I deserve everything you and the team did to me, and although I saved the world, I lied to you. And I had promised. I promised I would never lie to you, never hurt you, and I don't think I can live with the guilt anymore," Barbara stopped reading, and choked down a sob. "I can't live with this anymore. I know I'm a wimp. I know I'm just hiding so I won't get hurt.

Please tell the team I won't be seeing them anymore. Please tell them I'm sorry. If they say I deserve it, please agree with them.

I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry I'm not good enough. For all of those times we fought and you beat me, I trained harder, but I was never good enough. For all those times when I got kidnapped because I was reckless and childish and you had to save me. Please just forget everything. Just forget those times.

I'm sorry I'm worthless. I'm sorry you had to befriend me; and I know right now you probably wish you never met me. I know I'm just a piece of gypsy trash that you hung around, and made you lose you friends. I'm sorry I dragged you into this. Every Time you were taken by villains, or got beat up on patrol- those are my fault.

I'm sorry I betrayed you. I'm sorry for saying I would go to Japan after our graduation with you, and we won't go now. I'm sorry for saying I would never have another woman but you, and I've probably had more ex's than Bruce. I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry for ever meeting you, your life would be better without me.

I'm sorry for ever falling in love with you.

I'm going to fall asleep now, and I'm never going to wake up. I'm going to finally meet your mom, and my parents, and say hi to Wally, and I can say sorry to everyone.

I won't be seeing you ever again. Don't come to Bludhaven to find my body, please. I won't be there. In fact, as I write this letter, I sit in a secret place, not even Bruce knows about. I made you a promise five years ago that I would never forget you, and that we would live together, forever. I said I'd build a house, and we could always be together, inseparable. I kept my promise. I built a house, and if you tear it down out of hatred, that's okay.

But I won't forget you. I'll be here forever, in our special place.

And it will always be our special secret.

Forever regretful,

Richard John Grayson"

As she finished reading the letter, she couldn't control her cries. Guilt rushed inside of her, pushing the hatred out. This was her fault, she hurt him, they all hurt him, and he was gone. Barbara's eyes felt hot, and tears streamed down her cheeks. He was gone.

Slowly, she got up off her bed, and walked to her closet. Pulling out a leather jacket, she put her hair in a ponytail, and slipped on a pair of dark grey skinny jeans. Pulling on a pair of black Vans, she opened her door and walked downstairs. A soft, creak erupted throughout the house, and she cringed. As she quieted her sobs, she picked up the keys to a black Lamborghini Gallardo car, which had been a sixteenth birthday present from Bruce, and drove off, not minding the fact that it was almost midnight.

She drove the car around familiar streets, and once she reached the neighborhood of Skygreen Heights, she turned left, heading down the street pass multiple million dollar homes. Once the street ended, she made a right, and drove for about one mile on the vacant street, and at the end, was a large manor, thirteen stories high, and enough rooms to fit the entire staff of the White House. the drive was a like a cul de sac, with a large fountain in the middle. She parked the car beside the fountain, and began to walk up to the large gates of Wayne Manor. Typing in the code 120316, (Alfred's initials- Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth) she waited for the gates to open. Without approaching the Manor, she walked east, towards the woods.

After walking for about twenty minutes, she saw an apple tree, still in growth despite every other dead tree in the middle of winter. The same giant trees loomed over her, and the same bushes were there, ripe blackberries ready to be plucked. The pond had a luminescent glow, and lily pads floated around, every so often pushed by the ripples in the water, caused by the bronze and gold fish. She could have sworn that it was magic.

In the center of the pond was a flower, and in front of the flower was the same plaque. Except… this time there was an envelope next to it. Squinting her eyes, she slipped out of her shoes and rolled up her pants. Wading into the water, shivering at the cold December air, she walked out to where the water reached her shins, and looked at the envelope. On it was one word- _Barbara_. In Dick's handwriting. Her jacket still on, she ran out and gripped the envelope hard. She let tears fall in relief, she need to see what he said. She needed to know what happens next. Opening the envelope, she read the words on the page silently.

"I promised." And she turned around. She had said nothing, but she heard it. In a whisper, she heard his voice. She heard him. Her eyes widened in hope that he was there, but all she saw was the pond, ripples occupying where he would have stood. And she gasped at what she saw.

In front of her, behind the bench where the two once sat, was a house. A wooden house two stories tall. The windows had green curtains, and the porch had a rocking chair, hand-made. There were pots full of flowers, still alive, and a pathway of stones in front of the structure. She waded out of the water, and walked up the steps. On the rocking chair was a blue quilt, which she wrapped around herself, and inside the doorknob was a set of keys. Next to the door was a framed, which read, 'Our special secret.' She turned the knob, and opened the door. Inside was a elegant kitchen, with glass cups and decorated plates. A table stood in one room, with a pot of daisies as the centerpiece, and two chairs were at both ends. She walked into the living room, were a marble fireplace had burnt wood inside. Lush chairs and black leather sofa were situated on a beautiful fluffed blue rug, and a flat screen TV was on the wall. Pictures hung on the wall, each with the faces of Barbara Gordon and Dick Grayson in them. In the last room downstairs was an office, with a high tech computer on a desk, and monitors along the walls. The room had no windows, and so lamps along the ceiling lit the room. In the corner was a glass case, and inside was the Nightwing suit.

She felt herself put a hand over her mouth, and she began to cry. She walked outside of the room, and upstairs, were five bedrooms and two bathrooms were, with all of the doors opened. She walked down the halls, and looked inside each room. Three of the rooms were the same. A white dresser, and mirror on one wall, a coat hanger and closet on another, and on the wall farthest from the door was a queen sized bed and dark wood nightstand. The fourth room was a lime green, and a king sized bed was situated on the right wall. A tall black dresser was beside the bed, and a black nightstand on the other side. A neon yellow lamp was on it, and so was a picture frame. Walking to the picture frame, she turned it so she could see. It was a photo of sixteen year old Barbara, and Dick. He had his arm around her and she was kissing his cheek. Barbara quickly turned it away as she felt herself crying again. In the closet was a single piece of clothing, the Batgirl suit. and she left the room before she saw anything else. As she approached the final bedroom, she noticed the door was closed. She turned the knob, only to find it locked. She began to pull out her bobby pin from her hair to unlock it when she remembered.

_Don't come to Bludhaven to find my body, please. I won't be there. In fact, as I write this letter, I sit in a secret place, not even Bruce knows about. _

_It will always be our secret place._

She cried out, and pushed a hand to her mouth. She shook head 'no' as if trying to make the realization go away. She knew what lay inside of that room.

Turning, she ran downstairs and out of the house, and grabbed the set of keys in the doorknob. Locking the door, she ran and put her shoes back on, and threw the blue quilt to the ground. She ran out of the forest, and back to her car, and all the while, she repeated one phrase over and over.

"I'm sorry."

Fin.

**Thanks for reading! You have NO idea how long I looked to find the perfect car for Barbara and the perfect flowers for the pond-place! I wrote this in like an hour, so sorry if there are grammar mistakes. Let me know if you like this, and if I should write a third chapter, and focus on other's reactions as well, or if I should delete this chapter and leave it as a one shot. :) ~Babs**


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